


Richmond's Demotion Day

by DorianAvenal



Category: IT Crowd
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-14
Updated: 2021-01-14
Packaged: 2021-03-12 11:09:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,225
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28759356
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DorianAvenal/pseuds/DorianAvenal
Summary: Filling in the blanks from "The Red Door" this is what really happened when Richmond was demoted. Told mostly from Richmond and Roy's perspectives.
Comments: 6
Kudos: 6





	Richmond's Demotion Day

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first fic, I hope you enjoy!

Seated behind the desk of his executive office, Richmond glanced gloomily at the status reports piled in front of him. His team’s work had gotten more sloppy recently, which despite the usual productivity levels of Reynholm Industries, wasn’t like them. They had been so distracted in his strategy meetings lately, but why? Something was affecting the team’s performance but he couldn’t put his finger on it. Bursting the bubble of his pondering, the office door swung open. “Mr. Reynholm would like to see you in his office now,” Richmond’s receptionist informed him.  
“I wonder why Denholm wants to see me,” Richmond thought, rising from his seat. “The project pitch isn’t until next Tuesday. And he hasn’t been calling for social visits since his father died.” Richmond crept silently toward the office where he had first been stared down by Denholm Reynholm two years ago, not knowing what was to come. 

“Hello Richmond, please take a seat,” Denholm uttered gravely. This was not to be a social occasion. “Your team has not been working as a team recently and you know how important teamwork is to me, I even like saying the word ‘team’, and as team leader I’m afraid the blame for sloppy work falls onto you. I’m demoting you to the I.T. department.”

Richmond stood in shock–his career had been going so well, and Denholm had liked him up until now. “But why? I’ve been trying to get them back on track, I swear Denholm. I don’t know why they aren’t focusing in meetings anymore, they just haven’t been the same lately.” Denholm Reynholm stared at the now even more pale man before him, shocked by his obliviousness, anger welling inside him.

“Richmond, I’m going to have to ask you to clean out your desk immediately and report to the I.T. department. As much as this saddens me, you should be grateful I’m not firing you. And from now on it’s Mr. Reynholm to you.” Those words were a stake through Richmond’s heart; he began to look off into middle distance to grapple with the full weight of what had been said but was jolted back to reality by Mr. Reynholm shouting “I said immediately!”

Richmond skulked out of Mr. Reynholm’s office with downcast eyes. “I haven’t been conducting my strategy meetings any differently, how am I the reason for their poor work?’’ he thought while studying the metal rings on his fingers. Returning to his office full of despair, Richmond began packing up his things. He stopped when he came across one of his Cradle of Filth CDs and decided to put it on. As the soothing screaming and heavy guitars pulsed about him Richmond packed up the last remnants of his normal life. He didn’t have any I.T. experience, why was Mr. Reynholm moving him there? What was he going to do with a bunch of computers? At least he wouldn’t have to wear suits to work anymore. Richmond had seen the nerds who work in the basement and they certainly did not follow the company’s dress code. Maybe he could finally show off the bat necklace he was so excited to find. With that hope in his heart Richmond picked up the boxes holding his belongings and headed to the elevator, ready to make the thirty-four floor journey down to the basement.

Approaching the open door of the I.T. department with trepidation, Richmond heard an Irish voice asking, “Well is it plugged in?” He entered quietly so as to not disrupt the current conversation. A man seated at the desk closest to the door stared at Richmond in shock. Maurice Moss, not knowing what to make of the ghoul that had just appeared in his doorway, quickly glanced over to his friend Roy who was unfortunately still engrossed in ridiculing one of the upstairs for their lack of computer knowledge. Moss glanced back at the unknown spectre haunting the office box in hand.

“Hello” he said out of social obligation.

“Um hello, my name’s Richmond Avenal. D-Mr. Reynholm said I’m to be working here now.”

“Uh, erm, Roy!” Moss cried in a harsh whisper. The Irish man had just hung up the phone to discover Moss and an unfamiliar goth staring expectantly at him.

“Hello,” Richmond said uncomfortably. “Mr. Reynholm has moved me to this department. Where should I put my things?”

“There is no way I’m working with this man,” Roy thought to himself. “Better think up something quick Roy.” “Do you have any I.T. experience?” he queried.

“No, I was the project executive until a few moments ago. I am good with strategy.”

“Uh… yeah. We don’t need strategy down here. Thanks for coming down, but I think you’ll find we’re all set.”

“But Mr. Reynholm sent me down here, he said I’m lucky he isn’t firing me. I don't know why I’m down here, but this is where he told me to go.”

Moss and Roy exchanged unsure looks. They couldn’t get this guy fired, they’d just met him.

“Why did Denholm send you down here, Richmond?” Roy asked.

“I don’t know why he sent me down here. He’s been acting so strangely since his father died. We were so close before that, but our relationship hasn’t been the same since. I was like his right hand.”

Staring at the pitiful goth before him, Roy knew he didn’t want to get him fired, but he couldn’t have him standing in this room any longer. But where could they put him that would be out of the way? The mainframe room of course! Moss and Roy hadn’t had any reason to go into that room in years. That was the perfect place to banish this spectre.

“Uh ya know Richmond, on second thought we do have something you could do for us. Come here.” Roy gestured for Richmond to walk over to him. “You see this red door? We’ve actually been needing someone to look over things in here. So uh, here’s a chair and you just come and tell us when anything changes.” Richmond looked at the door and back at Roy who was pushing a chair towards him. Was this really where his career was ending up? He put his boxes onto the outstretched chair and pushed it into the room behind the red door.

The room itself was unremarkable, just an unfinished part of the basement; cold, dark, and grey. Inside of the door to the right sat what Richmond assumed the Irish man had meant he was to watch. The block of rectangles’ lights flashed intriguingly–they were to be Richmond’s only friend. He walked into the cold room pushing the chair in front of him, and before he could turn   
around to ask the men behind him any more questions, the door was closed firmly.

“That’s just bloody rude,” he thought to himself.

Richmond was alone in the cold and the dark with only the flashing of lights to keep him company. He didn’t even know what he was supposed to be watching for or the names of the people he was supposedly working with. Richmond positioned the chair in the centre of the room, sat down, and stared at the blinking lights, accepting his fate. This was certainly going to be a Cradle of Filth worthy day.


End file.
